


My mouth is watering, I feel detached, I might just go and never come back

by It_is_I



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, M/M, Sociopath Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s childhood, Wool’s Orphanage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/It_is_I/pseuds/It_is_I
Summary: Tom feels... like the world is a beautiful thing. It sparkles and shines and smells oh so very divine. He likes to look at things, and touch, and he likes to taste just as much. Despite these things the world is still shite. There’re humans. And humans. And humans. The list of things Tom hates is long. And it starts with humans, and ends with humans.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	My mouth is watering, I feel detached, I might just go and never come back

**Author's Note:**

> As any person familiar with Harry Potter should know:  
> The credits go entirely to J. K. Rowling. This is a nonprofitable fan fiction that wouldn’t be if it hadn’t been for Rowling coming up with the characters, their origins, quirks, habits, personality... all of it is because of J. K. Rowling. We thank you.  
> I do not recommend you read this if you have an issue with aggressive and violent behaviour.

Tom wasn’t fond of humans. They were filthy, feces covered, reeking, sweaty, pink creatures, with an apparent lack of decorum, physical strength, dexterity, and intelligence. They were dumb. Oh so very dumb. It didn’t matter how many of them he met. As they varied in age, shape, or origin. They were all the same. Painful to be around. Even a minute in their vicinity made his blood run hot and cold through his body. Made his heart freeze and squeeze with an odd feeling that made his whole body feel as if it were filled with an electric current, about to float away. He had to stop his fingers from twitching as he thought of digging his fingers in tissue. He was filled with a whirlwind of emotions, their presence nauseating. Confusing in their nature and intensity. Why did he lose his temper so when these uncultured worms were involved? He did not know the words for the way his body felt icy, detached, yet hot, and so very there at the same time but he did know one thing with absolute clarity. Tom couldn’t stand them. He hated, hated, hated them. With their fake smiles, and polite pretentious attitudes preaching of accepting all creations of god, only to turn around and shun those not adhering to the newest trend, for forgoing to be as the general sheep flocking around and seeking approval of the other ignorant, deprived _people_ ; hypocrites the lot of them. He despised their continued existence. Tom wasn’t like the others. Tom was special. Tom was _better_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He brushed the palms of his hands against the cloth of his shorts as he walked. The rough cloth gently brushing against his skin. He could feel the way the material had been woven. Hear the gentle sound of it brushing against palm prints and of the steps he took. The gravel mixed in with the soft soil and grass put pressure on his soles in little spots. The sun caressed his skin and the air smelled fresh. He scented it. Today he was one. One with it. That.. energy he could feel in his body, and in the world.  
> “Tom!” The quiet, harsh noise that left him was one of displeasure. He did not appreciate being interrupted. Less so when he felt as he did right then. “Not even three minutes of solitude before I’m tasked to clean after these pigs. One day...”
> 
> “One day...”

**Author's Note:**

> He brushed the palms of his hands against the cloth of his shorts as he walked. The rough cloth gently brushing against his skin. He could feel the way the material had been woven. Hear the gentle sound of it brushing against palm prints and of the steps he took. The gravel mixed in with the soft soil and grass put pressure on his soles in little spots. The sun caressed his skin and the air smelled fresh. He scented it. Today he was one. One with it. That.. energy he could feel in his body, and in the world.  
> “Tom!” The quiet, harsh noise that left him was one of displeasure. He did not appreciate being interrupted. Less so when he felt as he did right then. “Not even three minutes of solitude before I’m tasked to clean after these pigs. One day...”
> 
> “One day...”


End file.
